Out of Control
by stanzaic
Summary: Not everything goes swimmingly during Lost at Sea.
1. Prologue

**A/N:** Greetings, earthlings! I gave up my favorite TV show _Bonanza_ for Lent, and so I've tried to find good substitutes and found _The Suite Life on Deck_. And this is what comes of watching multiple episodes in one day. And noticing how badly the brothers treat each other. And how ridiculously perfect that landing on the island in _Lost at Sea_ was. So I decided a little something angsty should happen, mwahaha.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own this. Disney does. (Disney could be the new East India Company.)

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_Prologue_

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It was windy tonight, and there was sand digging into his bare skin, making him cringe. He was glad nobody else was awake to see him in such a state, see him succumbing to his fears and dark thoughts. he was glad that nobody else ever saw that side of him - because that was why he wore the mask; so nobody else could see it.

He didn't know how Cody could stand it. Being insulted every day of his life and still managing to get along peaceful and happy. Cody had the girlfriend; Cody was well off; Cody had all the brains. Cody was the one that would get the good job and all the best friends. Cody knew what he was going to do with his life. Cody knew everything.

And of course, he knew nothing. Sure, he knew what pants to wear with what shirt, but what did that really matter in the end? When he thought about it, was anything Cody did even something that would matter in the end? What was it he'd heard speech of - ah, yes. Judgment Day. The final hour. All that jazz. It was supposed to happen in 2012, and he knew it. He didn't believe it; it was more likely that the world would explode in the next minute than on a specific day in 2012.

His thoughts were digressing. He rolled over in the makeshift hammock and faced the ground, squeezing his eyes shut. Maybe if he cleared his head he'd fall asleep. And soon enough, he did.

* * *

Things were becoming a blur. Bailey cheesing at him trying to make Cody jealous. Cody sulking in any corner he could find. Woody stalking London. London pretending to be in a 5-star hotel. It was all stupid and worthless in his eyes; they were going to die anyway. It was hot and there was nothing to eat but bugs, and he'd already tried a couple of those; they didn't treat his stomach very nicely. And as Zack thought about it, Bailey returned to camp with a couple of berries.

"Hey, look what I found," Bailey said cheerfully. "Zack, don't you want some?"

Actually, he didn't, but he supposed it was better than sand. "Sure, thanks," Zack said dully, taking the berries from her. Bailey stood there with her arms crossed watching him, as if waiting for him to eat them. Zack was violently reminded of a scene from _The Return of the King_. Or perhaps it had been _The Two Towers_. In any case, he was Aragorn and she was Eowyn, and he did not want to eat these.

But Bailey stood there expectantly, so Zack popped them into his mouth and chewed. They tasted fine until he reached the insides of them - then they got a little bitter. But hey, at least they had some taste. The more Zack chewed the more bitter the berries were, but Bailey stood there and waited, and Zack swallowed them. "Thanks," Zack forced out, and Bailey grinned.

"You're welcome, Zack," Bailey said, and sat down beside him, which did not exactly make Zack want to leap for joy. "You know, if there's anyone I had to be stuck on a deserted island with, I'm glad it's you."

Zack didn't feel the same way, but he didn't say anything; he stared at the sand instead. He didn't care what Bailey thought about him. He didn't care what Cody thought - heck, he didn't even care what _he_ thought. He only wanted this to end sooner. He hated this. He hated it so much he didn't know what to do with himself. How many days had they been here? He didn't even know anymore.

And everything turned back into a blur.


	2. Chapter One

**A/N:** Next part. (:

**Disclaimer:** I don't own this. Disney happens to own half the world.

* * *

_Chapter One_

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The first sign that anything was wrong was the stomach pain.

Zack Martin woke in the middle of the night with a whimper, clutching at his abdomen. What was wrong with him? He never got stomachaches; he could eat anything. He'd always been called iron stomach. What was the matter now? He didn't understand, but he did understand that he was about to release the contents of that stomach - so he struggled from the lower hammock and staggered toward the shore. Once he reached the shore he bent over the water and waited for it to come.

_What is happening to me?_ Zack thought as he threw up the meager contents of his stomach, not caring if he woke anyone. He rather hoped he woke the others up - maybe then they'd stop complaining once they saw the condition he was in. Zack took a deep ragged breath and, for lack of regular water, washed his mouth out with ocean water from a few feet further down the shoreline.

Zack laid back in the sand, water lapping at him. He could feel sweat dribbling down his forehead, and his stomach was still searing. Zack curled into a little ball, sinking into the mud-like sand, the tiny grains digging into his skin. He would have muttered something along the lines of _ouch_ if he'd had the strength. Instead he settled for lying in the wet sand, not making any sounds at all, waiting for the end to come.

Out of nowhere a song popped into his head. _Waiting for the end to come, wishing I had strength to stand. This was not what I had planned. It's out of my control..._ He might have snorted at how appropriate Linkin Park's hit was, but he couldn't. All he could do was think about how much pain he was in, how much he was sweating, how fast his heart was racing, how the sand he was staring at was tilting back and forth in such a funny and strange way...

Zack watched the sand dance, watched the landscape twirl back and forth, vertigo striking him again and again. He coughed several times but didn't throw up again. Every time he coughed his stomach contracted painfully. He curled into a tighter ball, focused on the dancing landscape, and did as Mike Shinoda sang, waited for the end to come, trembling.

Why wasn't Cody trying to help him?

Zack spent however many minutes it was lying there, feeling completely and utterly alone, fighting down loneliness and pain. But then again, he'd always been alone. Cody always blamed him. It wasn't his fault he'd been left out of the brain pickings. He felt like Gilligan sometimes - he always tried to do the right thing but never quite managed it. So he'd given up on that and did what he wanted. Somehow that was not very fulfilling. He always felt like there was something else, something else out there, holding out for him...

All right, now he was just being silly. Zack watched the sand move around some more, almost giggling at the comical sight. The sky grew lighter as he thought about it. Was he really being silly, trying to figure out what else there was to life? He didn't think it was silly - he didn't think it was silly at all. In fact it was kind of ridiculous to think it was silly. What was he supposed to do, sit down and do nothing?

Of course that was what he was supposed to do. Did he ever actually _want_ to do something?

Yes. Yes, he did. He wanted to know what was supposed to be done with his life. He wanted to know what else there was to this. He wanted to know what he was supposed to do. He wanted to know whose orders to follow. He wanted to know how he could help. He wanted to know a lot of things, and he wanted to know them now.

Exhaustion was taking him, but he couldn't sleep, not with this horrific pain in his stomach. It ripped through him every time he tried to move. What was _happening_? What had he done to deserve this? He didn't know, but it must have been something really bad. Had he sleepwalked sometime and murdered someone in his sleep or something? Because stuff like this didn't happen to good people. Stuff like this only happened to the bad guys.

Speaking of bad guys, where was Cody? The sky was still lightening to a bright blue shade. Why hadn't Cody come to his rescue yet? Zack closed his eyes, willing to be dragged into the darkness of sleep, but his stomach kept coming back, pulling at him, telling him _no, no, you have to stay awake, you have to stay awake and feel all this PAIN -_

And pain it was. Ragged, tortured breaths. Sweating all over. Dizziness hitting him, wave after wave. Severe pain slashing at his abdomen. A searing headache. His teeth were chattering, and it wasn't even cold; was he getting muscle spasms now, too? This couldn't be happening to him, this just couldn't, couldn't, COULDN'T -

Zack tried to take a deep breath but only managed to hurt himself even more, making his ribcage rattle with the pain. "Stop it," he heard himself whine, as salt water splashed all over him, the tide coming back in. "Stop, please, stop..."

Why wasn't Cody coming? Why wasn't his twin brother, his flesh and blood, coming to help him?

Why?

WHY?

And on top of that, why were there so many questions he had left unanswered? This was past ridiculous, it was damn foolery! He was thinking about unanswered questions as he laid here in the sand squirming exhausted about to DIE -

The pain in his stomach grew to such a height that Zack yelped and rolled over. "Stop," he half-wailed through tears. "Make it stop. Please make it stop."

And then it did. Everything finally faded into blackness, although this blackness had a strange sense of finality to it.

* * *

When Cody Martin woke up he knew something was wrong.

He looked around. Something was missing. Some_one_, to be precise. Zack was gone from his hammock, and Cody had no idea where he was. "Zack?" he mumbled blearily, struggling to his feet, wiping sleep out of his eyes. He didn't have to ask the question again; he heard incredibly distorted and incredibly disturbing sounds coming from up ahead, by the water...

Cody stumbled toward the ocean, almost running. Zack was lying in the water, looking dangerously pale, looking dangerously _dead_. Cody dropped to his knees beside Zack. "Holy shit," Cody yelled. "Bailey! Somebody! Help!"

He grabbed Zack's wrist and felt for a pulse. It was there, but even as Cody felt it, there was something irregular about it, as if Zack's heart was doing jumping jacks in there. Cody lifted Zack's head. His breathing sounded off, and when Cody opened one of Zack's eyes, his pupil was dilated far past normality.

Bailey must've woken next, because she called from somewhere behind Cody, "You had to wake me up, too? Haven't you already done enough..." she trailed off as she caught sight of Cody leaning over Zack. Bailey darted over and bent on Zack's other side. "What do you think he has? What's wrong with him? What are the symptoms?"

"Dilated pupils," Cody said shakily. He hadn't released Zack's wrist yet. "Irregular heartbeat. Trouble breathing. Do you think he contracted some sort of island disease? It's not possible he has malaria, is it?"

"I don't know," Bailey answered helplessly. "What should we do?"

For once in his life Cody had no idea.


	3. Chapter Two

**A/N:** Nothing really to say here except _Gilligan's Island_ is hilarious.

**Disclaimer:** Don't own.

* * *

_Chapter Two_

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Sending out a search party was definitely the first thing on his list, and Mr. Moseby always did his to do list in order. That was why he was not only calling the Coast Guard - he was also giving Mr. Tipton a ring, just in case.

But after he finished making all his phone calls he paced one of the many decks, wondering what else he could do to help. There was nothing he could think of. So he continued to pace, thinking about all he'd done, hoping that the kids would be rescued. He didn't hate the Martins - not really. Well, he did dislike them quite a bit, but he wasn't entirely capable of despising them so much he wished them dead. Perhaps he had thought that once or twice, but he'd never really meant it. And now he wondered if he'd subconsciously wished that at some point and now it was coming true.

He hadn't liked that Bailey Pickett either. All she did was whine about herself. _Me this, me that, Kettlecorn this, Kettlecorn that, Moose this, Moose that!_ Moseby shook himself, trying to figure out what else to do other than hate on the kids in his head. Maybe he could ask the captain to steer toward the nearest civilization, then make another couple of calls, tell Mr. Tipton and the Coast Guard that they were making for land.

Moseby thought that was a good idea indeed, so he went about it. The kids were going to be just fine - just as annoying as ever - when they returned; after all, what sort of trouble could they get themselves into, anyway? It wasn't like they'd need medical treatment when they returned.

* * *

This was definitely one of the strangest days he'd ever been through. In fact, it was one of his first days at this new work. His third day, actually, which was really pathetic if he stopped to think about it.

Billy adjusted his headphones, watching out below for any sign of land or boat. He wasn't sure if those missing kids would be on land by now or still in the ship - or at the bottom of the ocean. Billy sighed. He used to want to be a parent, but then he realized how much that entailed, and he went for saving lives instead.

He watched fervently, waiting for any sign of anything. Who knew what crazy kind of trouble these kids could get themselves into? Sharks, jellyfish, the ocean in general, bugs, poisonous plants - any kid could fall for anything like that. _Oh, look, dolphins!_ Billy could almost hear them saying. _That's just like the little fishy guy from _Finding Nemo_! Yay, a mint with legs! That looks just like yummy berries from _Gilligan's Island_!_

Billy blinked, trying to shove out all the thoughts. Yeah, those kids didn't have much of a chance, especially if they came across anything like those sharks or plants. None of them were likely to have any idea what to do about anything like that if it ever came along. If something happened they'd probably die.

_Stop it,_ Billy told himself sternly. _We'll find them. We will find them._ He hadn't lost a life yet (so what if this was his third day?) and he wasn't planning on starting anytime soon.

* * *

_He was standing in a courtroom. Bailey was a witness - she was on his side. London was another witness - she was on the other side. Mr. Moseby was the judge. His mom was watching from the stands. Cody was the lawyer fighting for the other side. But who was the lawyer fighting for _his_ side? Oh - that must have been Woody, who was standing there awkwardly, looking like he didn't know what to do with himself._

_"You murdered, Dr. Jekyll," Cody boomed, pointing at him._

_"No I didn't," Zack answered. Apparently he was Dr. Jekyll. He wondered vaguely for a second who was Mr. Hyde._

_"Yes, you did. I have a witness here -"_

_"I have a witness as well!" Zack interrupted. "She'll tell you all about how great I am!" He stepped out of the way and Bailey started to talk, with a massive Kettlecorn accent._

_"He made me a right lady, he did," Bailey proclaimed. The line tugged at the back of Zack's mind but he ignored the sense of déjà vu. He'd never been in a courtroom before. "I'm all prettied up now, I am. I be a good speaker. He even gave me flowers!"_

_"Flowers," Zack echoed blithely. "I even gave her flowers!"_

_"But _my_ witness," yelled Cody, "says something else! What do you have to say to us today, London?"_

_London grinned. "Well, the transformation happens when you say something about food to him. Roast pork. Turkey. Pudding. Yew. Stuffing at Thanksgiving dinner. Chicken. Ham. Pot roast. Pork chops. Chicken dumplings a la creme. Holly. Strawberry CHEESECAKE!"_

_With every word Zack's stomach began to ache - it was stinging, bursting, exploding inside him, doing all sorts of strange things just to cause him pain - then he was writhing on the floor and Bailey was asking him if he was okay, and Cody was laughing maniacally shouting about how this was payback for all the crappy things Zack had done to him, and Mr. Moseby was ordering him to be hung, and a painting of Marie Antoinette was sitting in the corner all alone with a droplet of paint sliding down the edge of the frame turning her smile into a frown, and someone was screaming, and his head was about to implode, and Woody was punching him and kicking him for all the mean things he'd ever said, and he was getting obedience beat into him, and it just wouldn't END -_

_And he'd never wanted to die more._

_Then he was sitting in the living room at their old suite watching TV. _Gilligan's Island_ was on. It was the episode where Gilligan thought he was Mr. Hyde. Ginger yelled things about food and Gilligan transformed into Mr. Hyde whenever food was mentioned. Strawberry cheesecake was the last straw for him. It had been the last straw for Zack, too._

_He reached into a big glass bowl beside him and grabbed a handful of the food there, and he popped it into his mouth and crunched, expecting popcorn, but when the popcorn entered his mouth it transformed into something more gooey and fleshy with a small round hard inside, and he kept eating more and more berries until he was fit to burst, and then he was thrashing on the floor again, except Esteban ran in to laugh at him and Maddie stood by watching him die with a smirk on her face, and there was Cody again, laughing maniacally shouting about how this was payback for all the crappy things Zack had done to him._

_And he wanted to die even more._

_Sequence after sequence of death, repeating food, unable to stop eating the stupid berries, unable to escape this horror ride, unable to wake from this terrifying nightmare._

_And he needed death._

_He wanted it._


	4. Chapter Three

**A/N:** This is the last chappy. (:

**Disclaimer:** Don't own.

* * *

_Chapter Three_

_Two Weeks Later_

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All was silent.

Except for the beeping of a heart monitor.

And the sound of crying.

The hospital room was stark white. The white was so pure it was almost to a point of brilliance, shining so brightly. The first time Cody Martin saw it he'd thought it was a miracle. Now he wished he could see something else. This was the only thing he'd seen for who knew how many days. He'd been here languishing in this same room for who knew how long. And every second he was here even longer he felt more and more guilty, like this whole thing was his fault.

Cody stared at the still form of his twin brother, at the IVs sticking out of his arms, at his peaceful expression. At first when Cody had heard about the coma he hadn't believed it. But then he'd seen Zack, and he'd known that the doctors were telling the truth, and that his brother wasn't going to live. But morbid as it was Cody almost wished Zack would get it over with and die already, stop dragging all this out so incredibly painfully. This hurt so much it was almost like Cody was the one in the coma from poisoning.

_Yew berries,_ Cody thought wretchedly. _Why didn't I look at the damned things before Zack ate them?_ He should've checked. He so should have checked. This was all his fault, all this entire mess was his fault. He'd read tons of articles on yew berries and such poisonous things, he'd studied photographs of them online, he'd known the symptoms: _coma, convulsions, irregular heartbeat, difficulty breathing, severe abdominal pain, nausea, blue lips, dilated pupils_. Of course, Zack hadn't demonstrated a few of those symptoms for a while, and when he did it was even more horrible than when Cody had first seen him. Cody shut his eyes, burying his face in his hands, trying to shove out the thought of Zack thrashing around in the sand -

_Help me,_ Cody thought. _Please help us. Please help us, please._ Cody didn't even know what he was doing anymore. He'd done everything he could think of. He followed around the doctors trying to distract himself, asking if they needed any help with anything. He sorted out papers for the people at the front desk. He visited patients who never got any visitors. He comforted his mother. He comforted his father. He comforted people in the waiting room. He heard a Christian station on the radio, some girl singing about how she was never alone, and he violently turned off the radio. So what was he doing now?

He didn't know.

_Help us. Heal him. If You're out there. We need You._

Cody moved his hands and put his head between his knees instead. He was so hysterical now, thinking about the entire situation, that he had even resorted to praying. A long time ago he'd thought that God didn't exist. He'd looked at God as a scientist would - how on earth could a God possibly exist? It simply was impossible. Evolution was more likely. But every time Cody thought about evolution and questioned others about evolution, they went backwards so far they reached a point where it was unexplainable.

Before now Cody had ignored that. He wondered if he was supposed to embrace it instead.

_If You're out there._

Proof was what Cody had wanted, and although Darwin and the others had provided that, God had never given Cody any proof of His existence. _All knowledge degenerates into probability,_ Cody thought at random, recalling how he'd studied Hume and his theories in history class. Maybe Hume had been right in calling science a paradigm.

Science didn't solve everything.

_If You're out there._

Cody sat up, looking over at the bed. Zack was still and silent. The heart monitor beeped along at a steady rate. Disappointment flooded through him - as if he'd expected anything else. Even if God did exist, why would he help Cody Martin of all people? Cody had ignored God and shoved Him out all his life. Why would God want to help him?

The beeping sped up and the covers shifted, and Zachary Martin sat up.


End file.
